


She Loves Him

by Katie_Flint



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Family, Golden Age, M/M, thoughts of an affair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 08:32:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13454436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katie_Flint/pseuds/Katie_Flint
Summary: Marcus shouldn’t be bothering by finding Wood in the kitchen with his wife, but he is. And he shouldn’t worry when his wife tells him the man’s recently divorced, but he does. It’s when he spots her talking to the Ministry’s divorce wizard, Percy Weasley, that he can’t ignore the signs any longer… Its clear she's leaving him for his old rival, Oliver Wood. Right?





	She Loves Him

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Reposted from the Salt and Pepper fest 2017 event. I don't know how I missed posting this. 
> 
> I was inspired by the fabulous rosevalleynb and her prompt: Are the rumours true? After x-decades of marriage, a flock of kids and grandkids, and a receding hairline later, Marcus Flint is convinced that he's losing the love of his life to his archnemesis, the newly widowed/divorced/single Oliver sodding Wood.”
> 
> Soo, this came out a bit darker than you had requested but it ends happily!! I just really loved this prompt and hope you enjoy what came of it. Also, this fest is so amazing and outside the realm of normal fests! So cool!

“Good afternoon children,” Katie speaks, pointedly but politely to the students, and that’s how Marcus understands just how much trouble he’s in. Her small talk has always been an ominous sign, but this, the sharp inflections, Marcus just knows he’s in for it. And in front of his students no less.   
  
She truly means to strip him of his dignity, but his pride won’t allow him the good grace to run away.   
  
So Marcus stands steady, though inside the anticipation of what is about to occur shakes him to his core. This is going to be far from pleasant.   
  
Katie, calm as anything, requests to borrow a broom from one of the children, which puzzles most everyone, Marcus included. He wants to ask her what she has in mind, but he knows it’s a terrible idea.   
  
Of course, it’s only one of many poor ideas Marcus has had as of late, “Katie, love, wha-”   
  
_Wap!_   
  
Katie slams the broom’s bristles against her husband’s chest, unleashing the anger she’s held back since the moment she entered the courtyard.   
  
“You prat! You utter wanker!” She shrieks at him, chasing his retreating form to almost comedic effect. He’s not running, but Marcus stumbles backward, not at the force of her blows, but at the intensity of her fury, “Using Rosina’s child, our grandchild, to spy on me, have you no shame Flint?! We’ve been married for over forty-five years and I can’t- I can’t believe this!”   
  
Marcus’ students, first years that they are, stand there with their mouths gaped wide and their eyes practically popping out of their round faces. Professor Flint has always been ‘the scary teacher’, the one they have been afraid of since the very first day on the grounds, but this short woman with grey streaks in her hair is thrashing him so thoroughly that one would think he was as defenseless as a kitten. And the lurid accusations… the students are spellbound. It’s a rare and indescribably valued moment to hear adults say such grown up things in front of them, especially teachers. They’re horrifically enraptured by the event and wholesomely unhelpful from Marcus’ perspective. Of course, the mortification of being helped by an eleven year old in the circumstance leaves him almost grateful for the lack of assistance.   
  
The broom stops short of hitting him suddenly and Marcus dares peek up at his infuriated wife.   
  
He’s horrified by what he sees. She’s not crying, because Katie has never cried, not since the birth of their second child, but the way she’s staring at him tells him she wishes she were.   
  
Marcus wants to leap to his feet, to envelop her in a hug and apologize for it all, to take back the sleuthing and the mistrust, but she’s marching away from him before he can even attempt to rise on his bad knee.   
  
One of the students, the Patil girl, attempts to help him to his feet, and he accepts the help, using her sturdy body to help him stand. Getting up from the ground on his own is more daunting than he’d like to admit.   
  
”Katie!” Marcus calls, heading after her as fast as he can with his bad knee, _”Katie wait!”_   
  
It’s the desperate, pleading tone of man watching the best thing in his life walk away from him. She doesn’t stop, just even hesitate, only picks up her pace and disappears completely at the end of the hall.   
  
Marcus stumbles, and falls, his bad knee flaring with pain but he doesn’t notice, he just feels numb inside. How had he let this happen?   
  
\---  
  
Marcus first catches them together in the kitchen.   
  
Or rather, he finds his wife, Katie, standing over Oliver sodding Wood, wiping a patch of blood off of his bruising lip.   
”Oh, Marcus dear, could you fetch me another rag from under the sink?”   
  
Marcus does as he’s asked with a grunt. He’s never been a particularly chatty man, even after all these years together, but coming from his study to find Wood in his kitchen shakes the thought of conversation right from Marcus.   
  
The rags underneath the sink are right where they should be, though they’ve hardly been touched in years. They’re from bygone days when the children still lived in the house-- Julius always coming in from the backyard with something bleeding and Rosina spilling potions across the counter every other night. Both of the kids were grown now though, and with children of their own no less, but Katie still restocked the cupboard faithfully every Saturday. The rags were useful sometimes, when the grandkids came over, but rarely used otherwise. Until today.   
  
Marcus stands against the island counter, the thought of food completely forgotten in light of recent developments. Listening to Katie fuss over Wood in that same old mothering tone she used with the children, Marcus smiles quietly to himself despite his unrest, it was still quite becoming of her, “I can’t believe she hit you… Why did she hit you anyhow, Ollie?”   
  
The nickname surprises Marcus and the subtle smile he has falls sharply, though none of the other residents in the kitchen seem to notice. Katie hasn’t called Wood that in years...   
  
The Scotsman shrugs, wincing as Katie presses too hard into his lip, “I dunno. I handed her the papers myself, even told her why. Maybe she thought I was lyin’, that I had another lass waiting.”   
  
The suggestive eyebrow wiggle he gives Katie once would’ve sent Marcus swinging, but Marcus likes to think he’s developed a cooler head these days. He forces his unease down, and no longer hungry, excuses himself from the room, disliking the feeling Oliver brings out inside him.   
  
He’s got papers to be grading anyhow.   
  
Whatever’s going on with his old rival, it’s not any of Marcus’ business, and certainly nothing to be concerned about… Marcus is just surprised to learn his wife has been talking to Wood again. And to find the said man in his kitchen quite unexpectedly… It shouldn’t bother Marcus, his wife should be able to talk to anyone she wants, to invite anyone over she wants...   
  
Marcus ruefully crushes the unease rooting itself in his stomach.   
  
Whether she talked to Wood or not, Katie is a Flint, Marcus’ wife, and he has nothing to worry about.   
  
\---  
  
“Oliver and Annalise are getting a divorce,” Katie tells him as she climbs into bed that night.   
  
Marcus raises a brow, “Oh? That why he had the bruise and the shiner?”   
  
Katie nods, using her wand to turn the overhead light off. It’s early, but it’s been awhile since either up them have stayed up terribly late; not unless he’s grading papers.   
  
”It’s a shame,” Katie continues as she curls familiarly against his chest, “I used to think they were a lot like us. A forever kind of deal. Oliver assures me he’s going to be alright though. He has a date lined up next week-“   
  
”Love?” Marcus interrupts her, something he does so rarely it physically startles her, “I’m rather tired.”   
  
”Of course,” Katie leans up in the dark to kiss him goodnight. Marcus knows he’s imagining it, but it feels less sincere than usual.   
  
\---  
  
“Grandpa!” Zinnia demands, and Marcus returns his attentions to the young lady. Always the center of attention, just like Rosie used to be (and still was, whenever she was given the opportunity).   
  
”Yes Bean?”   
  
”That one,” Zinnia says pointing up to the barn owl sitting peacefully on its perch.   
  
Katie had promised to take their granddaughter to get a replacement bird, (the other having died rather tragically from heartbreak after it’s mate had passed) but she had Flooed Marcus during his lunch to tell him something had come up and he would have to take the girl himself.   
  
Marcus didn’t mind spending time with his granddaughter, but he just couldn’t seem to stop thinking about the owl and its unfortunate demise. Loosing Katie had always been one of Marcus’ greatest fears, and indeed, ever since he’d confessed his love for her, Marcus hadn’t ever imagined a life beyond her. In more recent years, Marcus had thought this irrational feeling was behind him, but seeing Wood the other week had shaken the cobwebs from feelings he hadn’t realized were still there.   
It was unnerving, and Marcus shook himself, “Looks healthy enough, good choice, Bean.”   
  
With the purchase made and the cage stored safely under Marcus’ arm, they depart from the store and back to the edge of Hogwarts with a simple apparition.   
  
”Do you want some help settling him into the owlery?” Marcus asks despite the fact that Zinnia is well into her third year and able to do such a thing on her own.   
  
”No, I’ve got it, Grandpa,” Zinnia smiles up at him, kissing his cheek, “Thank you for taking me today.”   
  
“Of course, Bean,” Marcus says as they part ways for different areas of the castle. He doesn’t say anything, but spending the afternoon with Zinnia is relaxing, despite the instance in the shop. She’s the result of the life he’s built for himself, and Marcus finds her existence reassuring on some level.   
  
\---  
  
“Wood,” Marcus says in surprise, finding the Scotsman at his favorite tavern Friday evening. He hadn’t meant to say anything to him, in fact he’d been intent on ignoring the man, but then Marcus had bloody bumped into him on his way out the door.   
”Flint,” Wood greets him with a startling cheer in his tone, “How’s Katie?”   
  
It bothered Marcus, that that’s Wood’s first question, but he attributes the lack of tact to the fire whiskey he smells on the man’s breathe.   
  
”Fine,” Marcus shrugs a hand off his shoulder only to have it replaced by an arm around his neck.   
  
”The divorce papers just came through, I can’t wait to tell her,” Wood grins right in Marcus’ face and he almost wants to freshen the healing bruises, “Have a drink with me Flint, for old times sake?”   
  
Old times sake would have assured a solid knock to the teeth, Marcus thinks but fights down the comment, “Can’t, classes tomorrow.”   
  
Shrugging Wood off more forcefully, Marcus makes for the door fast as his bad leg will allow him. He doesn’t mention the fact that Katie’s waiting with dinner. That seems private, and more personal than he’d like to be with Wood; more than he’d like the man to know about his home life. The man’s already too close for Marcus’ liking.   
  
\---  
  
Marcus wakes disoriented.   
  
He dreamed of the accident tonight; a dream he hasn’t had for quite some time.   
  
Marcus used to fly for the Falcons, before the idea of professor had even crossed his mind. He was young then, in his twenties, and he was an angry bugger at the time. It was before Julius and Rosina, and indeed even before Katie. All Marcus had going for him was his career, and he had loved it.   
  
The fall though, his fall from grace, had nearly killed him. Not that Marcus wouldn’t do it a thousand times over if it meant remeeting Katie.   
  
The healers had saved Marcus from injuries that should’ve killed him, but it was his spitfire nurse that taught him to live again.   
  
”You can fly again, possibly,” Katie had explained a few weeks into his treatment, after all the other nurses had refused to tell it to him straight, “But you’re never going to play professionally again.”   
  
It was hard, as hard as one might imagine it to be, hearing that your days doing what you loved were over before they’d even really begun. Marcus had only been signed last season for Merlin’s sake! The only comfort Marcus found, once he’d had enough time to work through his initial anger, was that Katie had been plain and honest with him. He could appreciate that at least, and the fact that she hadn’t been afraid of him.   
  
A lot of people were, given his name and his appearance, but not her. Katie was bold and vibrant, and it stupefied Marcus to no end.   
  
Katie worked with him throughout almost all of his treatment and somewhere therein Marcus fell for her. Not literally, though he fell almost daily while recovering, but rather romantically. The hospital was a happy place those last few months, despite knowing his leg would never be quite right, and indeed Katie finally found it in her to reciprocate those feelings Marcus expressed to her in his own oafish ways.   
  
Oliver had been at St. Mungo’s and he too had sought Katie, but his attempts had failed in the end, much to Marcus’ glee.   
That was what had happened, Marcus remembered the events as if they’d happened only yesterday, but in his dream—or more accurately his nightmare— things had gone very differently.   
  
_”Bell, I’ve been thinking,” Marcus had started with grand gusto, perhaps over doing it a bit but attempting a charming demeanor none the less.  
  
“You? Thinking?” Katie had snorted, “That’s unheard of.”   
  
”Katie,” The façade had fallen in the face of her indifference, “I don’t know how to say this, but you going on a date with me, I think it could be really great. The two of us, together.”   
  
Things had gone just as he’d remembered, up until this point.   
  
Katie frowned, pulling out of the embrace he’d taken her into during his speech. This wasn’t supposed to happen, Marcus had panicked, Katie never left his arms, she’d been humored by him, laughed goodheartedly, but she hadn’t left. Even during the dream he’d known something was wrong.   
  
”I’m sorry Flint, I can’t… I just, can’t. Oliver’s already asked me,” _  
  
Things spiraled from there, in the dream. Marcus saw his life, the life he’d built with Katie, replaced with Wood’s smug Scottish smile. It made him want to wretch and indeed Marcus stumbled to the bathroom in the darkness, finding the porcelain lid by sheer familiarity with the house. His house, his home.   
  
Marcus didn’t want to think of what the dream meant, but he couldn’t fall back to sleep either. It disturbed him greatly, that holding Katie brought him only partial comfort.   
  
\---  
  
Marcus is standing in Diagon Alley when he sees Katie leaving a tavern with none of than Percy sodding Weasley with her hand on his arm. He wants to storm across the way, demand an explanation why but he can’t move.   
  
Marcus trusts and loves his wife but that’s not a Weasley he can abide by. Percy’s not just any wizard, he’s the kind that works in the art of divorcing and dividing witches and wizards that wish to be separated. If Marcus remembers what Katie told him the other night, the surly redhead handled Wood’s bloody divorce. Katie has no business talking to such a man, unless…   
  
His chest begins feels unreasonably tight, and Marcus has to sit down on the cobblestone just to breathe. It’s an ungracefully seating and he practically falls from his bad knee. The pair doesn’t notice him though, and Marcus watches pitifully as they make their way down the crowded street, leaving him to imagine only the worst.   
  
\---  
  
”Bean,” Marcus motions for his granddaughter. Her brows raise into the same perfect point as her mother and grandmother’s, unsettlingly so, but she comes none the less.   
  
”What is it Grandpa? I’ve got to be to Herbology in just a few moments. Headmaster hates when we’re late.”   
  
”I need you to do something for me,” Marcus says in a hushed tone. He’s contemplated this for some time now, debated the consequences of bringing his granddaughter into this mess, but he needs someone Wood doesn’t know. And he’s running out of time to save his marriage.   
  
He feels awful, he really does, asking his granddaughter to follow Wood tomorrow, but this is about keeping her grandparents together right?   
  
”Your grandmother’s meeting a bloke tomorrow, I need you to tell me where he goes and what he does, alright?”   
  
”… Why?” Zinnia asks, her eyes narrowing. Of course she’d asked, Marcus sighs, keen witch.   
  
”It’s just, it’s important. To keeping your grandmother happy,”   
  
”Is she in love with him?” Zinnia asks, far too innocently for the sinister implication. Marcus has to hold back his internal reaction, knowing she doesn’t deserve that from him. This isn’t her fault.   
  
”No,” He sounds less confident than he means to and his shoulders sag sorrowfully, the weight of everything falling down on him, “At least, I don’t think so.”   
  
”I’ll help you keep Gram,” Zinnia steps forward, taking his hand and squeezing it reassuringly. Forward and direct, just like a Flint woman.   
  
Marcus gives a weak smile in spite of himself, “Thanks Bean.”   
  
\---  
  
He’d ruined everything, Marcus thought soberly in his office. He hadn’t gone home, hadn’t dared to see what he might find.   
  
Instead, Marcus had poured himself a glass of a special whiskey Headmaster Longbottom had given him his first day on the job. Strong stuff, and probably not entirely legal, but it had been from Neville’s personal brew, and he’d told Marcus he’d know when to open it.   
  
Now seemed as good a time as any.   
  
”Grandpa?” A wavering voice came through the closed door.   
  
Marcus didn’t respond, couldn’t think of what to tell her. This wasn’t Zinnia’s fault, even if she had gotten caught. She should never have been involved in this to begin with. It was cruel of him, Marcus knew, and he downed another shot of the whiskey to dull the pang in his heart.   
  
Eventually, Marcus told her he was fine, but only because it was late and she hadn’t left. Zinnia was unconvinced, he was certain, but there was little she could do short of blowing the door down.   
  
”I’m sorry,”   
  
He heard her retreating footsteps shortly thereafter, and felt himself begin to uncharacteristically almost as soon as they faded into the distance.   
  
He was truly alone now, and all of his own doing.   
  
\---  
  
_BANG!_   
  
Marcus jolts upright, things falling from his desk haphazardly as he reacts to the noise.   
  
”You’re an idiot, you know that?”   
  
The voice is coming from the woman standing in front of his now nonexistent door, which is trembling on the floor. At first, his mind still riddled with alcohol, Marcus thinks the woman is his Katie, but upon further inspection, Marcus realizes it’s his daughter instead.   
  
”I’m inclined to agree with you this time Rosie,” He sighs, seeing the whiskey bottle had fallen and shattered onto the floor in the excitement (or perhaps as he slept), “Merlin I’ve messed things up.”   
  
”Salazar knows you have,” Rosina agrees with little cheer, “And you reek of alcohol to boot. C’mon, enough moping, it’s time to fix this.”   
  
\---  
  
Marcus wants to protest returning home but it’s all he can do to keep his stomach from turning as his daughter apparates them back to the house. Its empty, but from what Marcus can tell all of Katie’s things are still there, so she hasn’t moved out. Marcus isn’t sure if that’s worse or not.   
  
”Take a shower and get dressed, I’ll brew you a potion to subside the hangover,” It’s not unkind, but it’s not a request either. He doesn’t what he’s told nonetheless, appreciating Rosina’s straightforwardness.   
  
He wishes he could say he feels better after the shower, after the potion, but he doesn’t. In fact, Marcus doesn’t know if he’ll ever feel alright again. It sounds melodramatic, and maybe it is, but honestly, without Katie, Marcus doesn’t know how to exist.   
  
”Do you feel properly foolish?” Rosie asks, and there’s a heat in her voice, “Using my daughter to snoop into affairs that aren’t yours to pry into?”   
  
”Awful,” Marcus sighs, wanting to sink into the counter he’s leaning against. The feeling of a hangover is gone, but he still feels sick.   
  
”Good, than you should probably know,” Rosina says, wiping the counter down, “That Mum’s not leaving you.”   
  
”What?” Marcus jerks upright.   
  
”Are you going deaf now?” Rosina swats him with the towel, “You heard me. Even after this little stunt of yours, that woman loves you. Merlin knows why sometimes.”   
  
”Where-?”   
  
”She’s at my house, spent the night sobbing her eyes out thanks to you. Do you know how unsettling it was to see Mum crying? You owe me big for that, and for using my daughter, you wanker.”   
  
Marcus should be more perturbed, having his daughter calling him a wanker, but the thought that he actually made Katie cry blocks all else from his mind. He has to see her, immediately.   
  
\---  
  
“Go away,”   
  
It’s not the most unromantic thing Katie has ever said to him, and Marcus wouldn’t be where he was today if he wasn’t stubborn enough to stick with something, “Katie, I just want to tell you you’re right. I’ve been a wanker, a proper git, and I’m truly sorry. I never should’ve thought of you that way, and I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I just, I saw you with that Weasley the other day… And after seeing Wood in our kitchen… I thought maybe, maybe you didn’t want to be with me anymore.”   
  
”You idiot,” Katie looks like she just might cry right there on the spot. A mortifying thought, but Marcus is more than willing to accept the possibility, after everything he’s put her through, it’s the least he deserves to see, “Ollie’s dating Percy.”   
  
”What?” Marcus stands stunned, as if hit with a hex.   
  
Katie nods, rubbing a puffy eye, as if trying to push the threatening tears back into place, “I was helping them plan a date, since neither of them are particularly good at communicating.”   
  
”Why didn’t you tell me?” Marcus blurts without thinking.   
  
”Well, you seemed stressed, and I didn’t want to bother you with their worries…” Katie says, and even she seems to recognize the irony of her statement.   
  
It doesn’t take long for a chuckle to bubble it’s way out of Marcus’ chest, joining Katie’s hiccupping one. He falls to his knees in front of the couch whether she sits and he hisses as his knee flares with pain up it hardly seems to matter now. He reaches out, clinging to her, grabbing onto whatever he can hold of her. She does the same and they stay there, laughing and crying all at once in a puddle of emotions and realizations.   
  
He’d been so foolish, of course she loved him, she’d always loved him. How could Marcus have imagined otherwise. Everything she’d done their forty-five plus years of marriage had been for him, for them.   
  
She hadn’t wanted to worry him…   
  
”Katie Flint, I love you. I’ll always love you.”   
  
”Until the end,” Katie agreed, hugging him with such a grip it felt she would never let go, and indeed, she never intended too.


End file.
